Six Month Lease
by rewind route
Summary: Crazy things happen when England gets tipsy, like sometimes he tells America he wants a girlfriend and they rent an apartment together, and start a family, or wait, no! That's not what happened! For the last bloody time, Sealand is not their child! USUK


The World Conference had been annoyingly long. America had hosted it this time around, so England knew that yelling after passing cabs on the moonlit streets of New York City shouldn't have come as much of a surprise. It still managed to piss him off though. The light rain and pasty clouds that threatened to sweep over the moon made the whole night feel a lot more dismal than it should have. It was the type of evening where England wanted nothing more than to curl against the counter of the bar at his hotel and be alone with alcohol. He took a deep breath, allowing that thought to calm him down a bit. It would be nice, really. A solitary, peaceful hour or two to just think...and drink, and then he would go up to his room and sleep. He'd catch his plane in the morning and be home before he knew it.

"Ah, dude, please!"

England shuttered and glanced over his shoulder before beginning to wave his arm with more ferocity.

"I am truly sorry, but I must catch my plane it will leave in an hour."

It seemed as though a taxi would never come for him. He was trapped here waiting for the conversation echoing behind him to catch up with him. He'd had enough of America for one day, too much of America, in fact. He just wanted to be alone.

"Wanker taxi, hurry up!" One of the yellow vehicles was finally swerving his way, but as America's voice boomed louder, England knew that he could not rest. Perhaps it would be best to give up and start running in the opposite direction.

"You're kidding me! Dang! But I have no one else to party with! Please Japan!" A thick head of shiny black hair entered England's field of vision and he ducked behind a streetlight in a vain attempt to avoid capturing his friend's attention. If Japan saw him he knew that he would no doubt draw America to him as well, and he could not stand for that.

"Yo! Is that you England!" The brit saw his dream of a peaceful night shatter at his feet. He had made a mistake. America had been right there in his blind spot and by attempting to flee from Japan he had accidentally placed himself in harm's way. He tried to ignore America as he rushed towards the taxi that was now perched against the sidewalk, waiting for him. Just as he grabbed the car's door and began to quickly thrust it open, he felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder. "Hey! England! You're staying here until tomorrow, right? Like ya' always do? Right?"

England shook his head feverishly. "No, you twit, I do not always stay the night after World Conferences, and I am not doing so tonight."

"Well that blows! I guess it doesn't really matter though, since you wouldn't have been any fun anyway!"

"Yeah."

"But you're lying!"

"I am not lying!"

"Yup. I mean, why else would you be carrying around a suitcase?"

England starred at the duffel bag slung over his shoulder and sighed. Perhaps he had overestimated America's gullibility just a notch. "This is not a suitcase, it's just a bag."

"Full of clothes and soap and stuff, I bet. Just admit that you're staying the night in New York!"

Arguing with America was like fighting a war with no soldiers. It was such a fruitless endeavor that he knew he should just give up. If America had convinced himself of something he wouldn't drop it even under a shower of gunfire.

"Yes, I am. But..." England was cut off by the overeager nation suddenly beginning to jump up and down. It was weird, but then again Americans seemed to have convinced themselves that weird was a synonym for unique or something like that. Well it wasn't.

"Great! I know that you won't be much fun, but I really, really want to go drinking and only losers go to bars alone!" England glared at him. Losers and people who value personal space, and tranquility.

"NO."

"Sweet, come on! Bye, bye, Japan!"

Before England was given the time necessary to repeat his answer seventy times, he felt his blood rush to his head and his chest slam against something hard. His head flopped helplessly against America's back as he tried to no avail to squirm out of the younger nation's grasp. America had always been strong and carrying England over his shoulder all the way to the bar around the corner didn't seem to be a very difficult feat. England beat against America's shoulders like a child throwing a tantrum, and he swung his legs about until America finally let him go. He fell on the ground in a painful huff, his leg bent at a kind of funny angle. He ignored the pain and tried to dash away, but by then it was too late, they were already inside the bar. America was flashing him a victory smile and doing a 'V' sign with his fingers for added emphasis, as though he had just won round two of the Revolutionary War. Knowing full well that he would be ambushed again if he tried to head towards the bar's only exit, England slowly made his way towards the long, poorly lit counter and sat down on a bar stool three away from the one America was seated on. It didn't work, America just scooted closer to him.

"It's been awhile," America said, looking somber for a moment before beginning to laugh his head off for no apparent reason. If England hadn't known better he would have seriously questioned if America wasn't already drunk.

The bartender came over and asked what they'd like, and America wound up ordering for both of them under the grounds that England was 'taking way, way, way toooooooo long!' to decide.

Their drinks were set out in front of them pretty quickly, and after a moment of glancing around behind him England realized that the place was pretty dead. He wondered why that was. Maybe it was the dreary weather, or maybe this was a crappy bar, or maybe it was because it wasn't yet the weekend.

America had already finished his first drink by the time England turned back towards his.

England drank his a bit faster than he normally would have, hoping that if he finished quickly America would release him from his prison sentence. America ordered another round for both of them, obviously not near ready to relinquish his hold over England. Embarrassingly enough, England knew that he wasn't...well...the best at holding his liquor and he really didn't want to be tipsy around America, it would just make the awkward situation he had been thrust into ten times more awkward. After all, last time he had taken America drinking it had worse than awful, and he was in no way looking forward to a repeat performance. He drank his second drink with a bit of hesitancy, but by the third he was already drunk enough to forget that he hadn't wanted to get drunk.

"Dude um...thank you for coming with me!" America's cheeks were kind of rosy for one reason or another, probably because he was buzzed, or maybe he was embarrassed by what had just said, most likely both.

"Like I hada' choice!" England shouted, his words slurring a little, despite his best efforts to use diction. Behind him he could hear a feminine giggle and he turned around just in time to see a young couple softly peck their lips against each other as they walked through the door into the bar. "You know, America..."

America put his hand up in front of England's chest and shook his head. "No."

"Wha?" England had no clue what he was talking about, but America's short attention span drifted away from him before he could get any form of clarification. "Um..." England tried to call America's focus back to him but America had already jumped off of his barstool and was surveying the area with a rather intense look in his bright eyes.

"They don't have a pool table!" America pouted, throwing himself back onto the stool and sticking his tongue out aimlessly. He glanced back at England and smiled, "So, what were you gonna' say?"

Drunk America seemed to be even more hyper than sober America. England groaned in frustration, certain that if he wasn't sloshed himself he would have already snapped at the twit. "Just that...Have you ever wanted to be human?" England's eyes wandered back over to the pretty girl and her muscular boyfriend, they were holding hands. He frowned.

"Not at all! I'm the immortal hero, why would I want to be human?"

"I wish I had a girlfriend." England bit his lip. He felt the sudden urge to put a curse on himself for being such a bloody fool. Why had he told the likes of America something so personal!?

"Ooh...Well then get one, dummy!" He made it sound so simple that for a moment England thought that it really would be easy. He wondered why he didn't already have one. And then it came back to him.

"No, she'd just die in like sixty years! What would be the point!?" He slumped over the counter and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. He felt pretty stressed out and vulnerable, as though he might break into tears at any moment. He blamed the alcohol.

America didn't seem to have anything to say, for once, until he spurted out, "I like kids!"

"What!?" England spun around so fast his neck hurt. "America! Don't say that so loudly...Nah, no...Don't say that at all!" He chanced a quick glance at the bartender, who was shaking his head and making his way into the storage room behind him.

"But...I think they're cute!"

"Stop!" England threw his hand over America's mouth and looked behind him at the couple, breathing a sigh of relief when he found they were too busy making out to have heard. He took his hand off of America's mouth and wiped it on his shirt.

"I was trying to make you feel better! I mean, you want a girlfriend and I think it'd be fun to be a father but both are kinda hard, ya' know?"

"Oh thank heaven! You were talking about being a parent." England ran his fingers through his hair and pinched the bridge of his nose. He felt exhausted, as though the misunderstanding had completely wore him out.

"What did you think I was talking about?"

"Nothing...I just thought that the Bad Touch Trio might become a quartet." England laughed heartily at his own joke, but America didn't seem to be listening. He never had been a very good listener, but that made sense, considering that talking was his favorite hobby.

"Was it fun?" America whispered, his eyes shining behind his glasses as they widened in anticipation.

"Was what fun?"

"Well...raising me, I guess."

England arched his thick eyebrows downwards and frowned at America. He had opened his mouth with a firm intention to say no, but he choked on the word. "N...It was..." he paused and his eyes accidentally met America's again, he still looked so eager, sitting there, waiting for England's answer as if it could make or break his world. England said nothing else for a very long time, only realizing after several minutes passed that he had left it at 'it was.' He didn't want to leave it that way, he didn't want America to get the wrong idea. He had to say something spiteful, if only to show that his grudge was as strong as ever. "I miss it." England shook his head, knowing that his words had lacked any and all spite. But he still felt that vulnerable knot in his stomach, and as at it mingled with the liquor in his system, his eyes began to shake and water. He quickly rubbed his tears away, hoping that America hadn't noticed, and was relieved when he looked over to find that the other nation wasn't even facing him anymore.

"England...do you think that if we didn't exist everyone would be okay?" America's voice was far softer than it usually was, and England quickly realized that America had turned away from him because the dang liquor was messing with his emotions too. England had turned the mood sour, and now America seemed to be going with the flow, the flow downstream, that is.

"Yeah, probably. I mean, our bosses could really handle it all." He paused, stewing over the thought for a while. "It's unfortunate...we might be worthless. We don't really have any power after all, we can only get things done with our bosses' permission and none our people even really seem to know that we exist nowadays..." England smiled, but it was fake. He knew that he was only smiling because if he didn't he would start tearing up again. This night was hell. Somehow he had even served to make Mr. Perky Obnoxious America start thinking such dismal thoughts...it was a downer of a miracle. He almost liked seeing this serious side of America, but it also made him feel pretty guilty. He shouldn't have brought up his thoughts of longing, America obviously couldn't handle such an adult conversation.

"That's a pretty bleak way of thinking, England! I was just asking cause' I was thinking about taking a vacation!" So that was it. Apparently England had be sorely mistaken. The so called 'serious' side of America was nonexistent.

"A vacation?" England asked, making it clear how dubious he was by his tone.

"Yup! Six months, rent an apartment in LA, get a human job, a girlfriend and stuff and see what it's like! Sounds nice, huh?"

It actually did. It did sound nice. "Yeah...if only."

"If only what?" England glanced over, expecting to find America with his regular smile painted over his features, but America looked serious again, maybe even deep in thought. Of course, he knew that America's serious expression was only skin-deep, but it still surprised him. "I think we should do it!"

"We?"

"Yeah! You're the one who brought it up, after all. You were all milky and swoony and since I'm a hero I can totally get you a girlfriend in five seconds!" England didn't understand half of what the American had just said, he knew that he was taken aback by it, though.

"I told you I was kidding okay? Even if we got human jobs we still live forever and even if you did get me a girlfriend, err...I could bloody get myself one! Anyway, she'd still die!" England blushed and stood up, "It's way late. I'm going to my hotel now."

"Hold up!" America called, dashing after him. "I'm going to do it with or without you, so don't tell anyone where I am kay'?"

"Don't be a twit, that's an awful idea. What do you think will happen to your nation if you are playing pretend for six months?"

"You just told me my boss could handle it and that I was worthless! Were you lying to me, bro?"

"No, you really are worthless," England laughed briefly, before adding, "But it's a terribly bad idea."

America sighed, his shoulders sinking downwards a bit. "I was looking forward to a vacation. Everybody gets one and after over two hundred years I totally deserve one! How else am I supposed to keep being a hero? It's hard work, England! Hard work!"

"Yeah, right...we honestly do deserve some time off every now and then to just...live." England wasn't really sure how living would feel. Living was to have a life, a family, a five to nine job; living was to be a person. But he...he hadn't felt like he had any form of a family or actual social life in years, his job never seemed to end, and he had the weight of a nation on his back without actually even being the one in charge of it.

"Right, dude! So then I'll get right on renting out an apartment for us!"

"I don't wanna spend my vacation with you, though. No...I'll rent out an apartment in my own country and hide out there, far far away from you and your face." Gosh, he felt drunker by the minute.

"I don't want to be all lonely during my time off, dude! I don't want to crash with you either, but...please!" America was contradicting himself, but England was too tired and dizzy to care.

"Fine, fine, sure." He weakly waved his hand and yawned, not caring about what he was saying anymore. He knew that they were both certainly just daydreaming. When they woke up with throbbing hangovers and gaps in their memories neither would care about their silly little fantasy anymore, and it would cease to be brought up.

"Sweet! This will be great!" America's sense of reality had completely abandoned him. England just prayed that it would come back later.

"Yeah. Now goodbyenight!"

England made sure to stumble the opposite direction from the American as soon as they got back out into the brisk night air, but he could still hear the cheery, "Nightie, night!" that was yelled out in return.

* * *

 **Not sure if I made England act drunk enough...based off episode 26, probably not, but bananas.**

 **Yeah...so review if you feel so inclined, if you do I will pleasure smile...err...**

 **Disclaimer: Hetalia belongs to Hidekazu Himaruya, so no, I do not own it, in case you were wondering, and I know that you were...I also don't own the 'cover' photo, but yes I did edit it, obviously.**


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